Ghost Light
by Asparaga
Summary: The night before Il Muto goes up, Erik ventures onto the stage of the Opéra Garnier, after everyone else is asleep. He thinks on light and dark places, and how the two mix. One-shot.


**Author's Note:** This takes place in between Prima Donna and Il Muto - the night before Il Muto goes up.

Based on the stage-musical more than anything else.

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"Ghost Light"

Prompt: "And this also has been one of the dark places of the earth."

It was late at night in the Opéra Garnier. The ballet rats were asleep in their dormitories. The stagehands, other performers, and other positions that were permanent residents of the Opéra were all asleep too, or else no where near he – Erik – the Phantom of the Opera!

He was being reckless tonight – "treading the boards" as it were. This was something he rarely (indeed, never) did, preferring if not needing to remain hidden. The curtain was open; he could see row upon row of red velvet seats. Ornate boxes lined the walls and the huge, elaborate chandelier was suspended from the painted ceiling by a chain. The entire effect was lovely, if slightly garish.

It was odd indeed to inspect the theatre from this angle – and not that he could see much anyhow. The only illumination provided was the ghost light, a single electric light atop a stand in the center of the stage.

A ghost light…Erik chuckled to himself, quietly. It served two purposes. One was practicality; it provided enough light so that no one would be stumbling through the sets backstage like a fool, injuring them as well as himself. It also prevented the theatre from ever becoming completely dark, and therefore protected the theatre from ghosts.

Again Erik laughed. Protect the theatre from ghosts, indeed…he himself was the most ominous of any spirits that haunted the Opéra, and here he was: Erik, O.G., the Opera Ghost.

Erik was in a restless and reckless mood. He made the most of this idiotic opportunity, though. He strutted about the stage as Piangi, the leading tenor of the company, was prone to do. He brandished an imaginary sword, kissed an imaginary lady's hand, mocked Piangi's over-the-top acting and his none-too-artistic singing. Ah, he knew that if he were to lead the company in one of the tenor roles of the season, he would bring entire audiences to tears.

He then wondered ironically whether the tears would be from his voice or from his malformed face. No, he would never perform on this stage, or any other. Never. The stage was, and forever would be dark to him, as if the ghost light had never been turned on. Never would he feel the heat of the gaslights as he sang an aria or a counterpart; never would he squint from a follow-spot trained on him crossing the stage.

He was close to leaving the theatre to escape the bitterness of this thought when suddenly another, infinitely more pleasant, struck him.

He would never, could never perform; Fate had denied him that. But She was kind enough to grant him deliverance in his pupil: Christine Daaé. She had a voice that must have came from the angels themselves, and he had taught her and helped her to refine it still more. She had lit the stage like the sun the night she had sang as the prima donna in the gala. Carlotta, the company's previous leading soprano, could not hold a candle to her brilliance.

And, he thought, a rare smile sweeping across his face, she would again tomorrow night light the stage with her presence again. To be sure, the managers were insistent that Carlotta return to her place of the prima donna in the next production, Il Muto….but Erik had ways. He would make sure Christine sang the lead role, that which she rightly deserved. All of Paris would be awed by her brilliance!

Perhaps, in a funny way, the light did keep the ghosts out, Erik suddenly reflected. Christine was _his _light, was she not? He was forever in the shadows, hiding, out of sight – yet his pupil, his Christine, shone her marvelous radiance on him and suddenly he did not feel so kept in the darkness anymore. She was his ghost light, in an odd way. He laughed for the third time that evening, but it was a far less ironic laugh than before, and closer to a real, mirthful laugh.

The earth had so many dark places, Erik thought. But the stage at the Opéra Garnier was not one of them, illuminated as it was at all times, even in the dead of night. And even Erik, who had lived an entire life in the dark places, now had a bit of light in his life. To keep the ghosts (ghost?) away, so to speak. And to stop fools from tripping over the scenery.

The Opera Ghost laughed once more that night, bowed to the ghost lamp in the center of the stage, and left the theatre with the ghost of a smile still over his marred features.

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**Author's Note: **This is from an English assignment from my school. We were given the quote at the top ("and this also has been one of the dark places of the earth") and told, pretty much, "okay go!". We just finished reading Heart of Darkness, explaining where the quote came from. And she decided that we'd had plenty of research papers/literary analysis papers recently, and this was just supposed to be a really easy 1-2 page creative writing or personal narrative assignment. And I had no idea what to write about, but then I was getting ready to charge my iPod to listen to it while I did physics homework, and for some reason (it's been over two years since I've been _truly_ obsessive over Phantom) Phantom popped into my head. And off I went.

I know you probably don't care about any of what I just wrote....ah well; my apologies for babbling. Now, I'm not sure if the use of a ghost light, and an electric one at that, is entirely correct for 1881 (ish). I researched as much as I could in one night (guess who procrastinates on school assignments?) and found evidence that there were electric lights in the 1880's*, so...I just went with it. If you know differently aboout the use of ghost lights/electric lights (references are also made to gaslights and follow-spots, ditto for those) in theatres in 1881, especially the Opéra Garnier, please let me know!

*Even though in the prologue it says that the chandelier's been wired for the "new" electric light, my (albeit minimal) research points out that electric lights weren't all THAT new in 1911/1919 (depending on the musical or film)...so...but again, if you know different, please let me know!

I do hope you enjoyed the story, and either way, reviews are much appreciated!


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